Of Diplomacy and Reprisal
Gabi This female child is about 18 months old. She stares back with vivid eyes of sea green, full of the wonderment of innocence. A thick layer of pale curls covers her scalp, the longest genuine strands of hair being only a couple inches in length. Her button nose is centered between rosy, rather plump cheeks, and tiny mouth puckered in constant concentration. The baby is dressed moderately to ward off any chill that may happen by but not roast the poor girl to death. A soft, ivory bodysuit hugs her pudgy form beneath a looser fitting jacket that appears to be a replica of a fighter pilot's vest - her father's addition, for certain. Aaden Aaden Baeyal is a fairly tall, slender human male. Standing just under six feet in height, his trim, athletic build gives once the impression of quickness rather than of strength. His features are youthful, likely placing him somewhere in his early twenties, though that might be deceptive and he could quite easily be older in truth. He goes clean shaven and his dark brown hair is wavy, even cut as short as it is, especially at the back and on the sides. Deep set eyes of dark brown rest in a well proportioned face, serious and intent as they take in the world around him, though they tend to lighten into a more hazel color beneath the light of day. He wears an expression that speaks of a sort of controlled openness, an amiable smile usually curving his mouth upward slightly, an expression of subdued confidence. Aaden is dressed in a dark green jumpsuit with black and gray splotches, the standard uniform of New Republic pilots. A large number of pockets dot the suit along the torso, arms and legs for convienient storage. A dull-grey namepatch with white lettering rests on his upper left-chest area, the name A. Baeyal imprinted upon it. Adorning his left collar tab is a square gray rank patch, indicating his rank to be a Major in the New Republic StarOps division. The left shoulder of his uniform is marked with his squadron patch, and a rather legendary one at that. At the heart lies the symbol of the Republic done in blue. Surrounding it is a yellow sun, outlined in white with twelve lines running out from it. Twelve representations of X-Wings are set into the yellow sun and a ring of black surrounds the entire design. An outer ring of blue, circumscribed in gold outlining, countains a quartet of red starbursts while the word 'Rogue Squadron' runs along the top and bottom of the patch. On the opposite shoulder is the familar red crest of the New Republic. A black belt sits around his waist, a holster haging down over his right hip, while well shined black flight boots complete the uniform. Hase Hase is a clean shaven young lad, with bright green eyes and long dark hair that's tied back into a ponytail. He stands around 2 meters in height and weighs around 90 kgs. He walks with military bearing, straight backed and shoulder's back. His teeth are nice and well taken care of and when he looks at you, it's like he's sizing you up. He is currently dressed in a light khaki jacket, with a dark khaki button-up shirt underneath, which is tucked into a pair of black cargo pants, which taper off as they're tucked into the pilot's boots.. One of the patches on the right side of the pilot's jacket signifies training in the X-Wing. On the left is a nametag, discerning the pilot's name to be . On the collar of the jacket, and on the collar of the shirt are two square blue patches with one red chevron (^), indicating his rank to be Flight Officer. On his left shoulder is a stylized patch, indicating him to be a member of Ghost Squadron; The patch itself is a blue-gray circle containing 13 white stars, circumscribing a gold Republic insignia and a white brooding wraith. Underneath, you can discern the words "Ghost Squadron," along with a motto of some sort on a smaller, rectangular patch sewn under the round one. On it is written four simple, yet strangely powerful words: "To the very end." Underneath that patch is a sewed on, large red number 3. On the right shoulder is the familiar red Phoenix crest of the New Republic. Slung on the right hip is a blaster, strapped into a rugged black shoulder holster which held by a black belt with a large silver buckle. The pilot's black flight boots appear to be in excellent condition, despite their worn appearance. Mitali This humanoid man stands at 1.77m with a fairly average body, neither particularly muscular or noticably out of shape. He looks to be in his early twenties, and his green-toned skin, identifying him as a Mirialan, is without any visible scars. He has black hair that is kept in a shag style, coming just shy of being long enough to fall into his brown eyes. His upper lip is stained black, the same color as a line that stretches from just below his lower lip to the bottom of his chin, two small circles on either said of the line. The backs of his hands are home to similar markings, though theirs are a bit more intricate. He's currently wearing the New republic Fleet officer's uniform, with it's slate gray bottom, and beige top. His pants are tucked into a pair of well-broken in boots. His shirt is Republic Standard beige, with black and beige epaulets adorning either shoulder. The area where campaign patches usually go, over the left chest, is still empty. A Circular patch covers a portion of his left Sleeve, showing a hydrospanner and arc-welder crossed to form an X, with the words NRSD Reprisal written on the fringe of the patch. The placard over his right chest reads <2nd Deck Officer Mitali, NRN>. His head is adorned with a short beige garrison cap, with the Phoenix crest of the NR front and center on it. Wrista The first thing one notices about Wrista, more than likely, is her height. This twi'lek is what one describes in polite company as "diminuitive"-- if she's taller than five feet, it can't be by much, despite the fact that she's obviously in her adulthood upon closer examination, at an age perhaps around her early or mid-twenties by a human scale. Despite being very short and fairly slender in the way many twi'lek females are, she has perhaps more muscle tone than is usually associated with her people, a wiry sort of build that suggests she spends much of her time engaged in physical activity. Her coloration is somewhat unusual for a twi'lek, with light grey skin and slightly darker grey striping across her lekku. The monocrome appearance helps bring out her eyes, however, which are a vibrant crimson hue. Wrista is wearing green and olive, camouflage-patterned BDUs that are the standard uniform for New Republic Marines. It has two pockets on the front of the shirt and across the left pocket is a black name patch reading |Wrista Ipex|. A olive beret neatly tops her head, no marks on it what so ever. Her lekku have been arranged behind her shoulders to accommodate the beret, bound in a green ribbon in a common twi'lek manner that criss-crosses down the length of the appendages. On both shoulders are dull red epaulettes, marked with ^. On the right sleeve, right at the shoulder, there is a black, round patch with the familiar red Phoenix crest of the New Republic inside of it. She wears a black utility belt with a sidearm holstered on the left/right side and a functional vibro-knife sheathed on the other. A pair of well-buffed jungle/combat boots round out the ensemble. Stone David stands 5'10" with an average build looking to be about 180lbs up to 190lbs.His black hair is cut short to New Republic Navy standards. Bits gray are starting to show revealing his older age. A black patch covers his left eye with a thick scar running from under the patch straight up his hairline. His remaining cold blue eye is filled with a dedication and determination showing the fighting spirit of this man. Today his attire easily denotes him as that of a New Republic Naval Officer. A pressed uniform gives this Officer a squared away look. Creases run down the sleeves of his arms as well as the front and back of his legs. His tunic is made of the Beige cotten and is tucked into his a slate-grey trousers. A black name placard with white lettering reads "STONE". The placard is located slightly above his right breast pocket. The Naval Rank of Captain is displayed on the epaulets adoring his shoulders. A black utility belt with a polished buckle is worn around his waist. The pants have been bloused over a pair of black leather boots that are highly polished. Seth A young man looking at his early 20s. He has long blonde hair and dark brown eyes which looks around with pierce sight. He is pretty tall around 6'6" and lean, Around 150 pounds. He is wearing a black suit of trousers, black shirt and a black coat. All colored in black. There is a single small necklace on his neck as jewelry. It’s not even jewelry if you look closely it’s a small sword. Looks like it’s from the times of old republic but who knows its origin... Kegren'Te Kegren'Te is a lithe Lethan Twi'lek of 26 years, whose red skin is tinged with a brighter shade of pink. She stands 5'3" tall, 102 lbs. Her long, thin lekku are unusually restless, and make small gestures or waves seemingly of their own accord. Inset in her oval face are a pair of crystal blue eyes framed with dark eye shadow, resting over a tiny little nose with a single tiny sapphire stud. her thin lips wear a basic coat of lipstick of a darker red than her skin. Kegren'Te is dressed in a dark green jumpsuit with black and gray splotches, the standard uniform of New Republic pilots. A large number of pockets dot the suit along the torso, arms and legs for convienient storage. A dull-grey namepatch with white lettering rests on her upper left-chest area, the name |Kegren'Te| imprinted upon it. Adorning her left collar tab is a square gray rank patch, indicating her rank to be a Second Flight Officer in the New Republic StarOps division. The left shoulder of her uniform is marked with her squadron patch, a strident red symbol of the Rebel Alliance, whose distaff arms end in streaking A-wings, above the evaluating eyes of a stylized falcon. Around that is a circular band of black, with deep green lettering: Falcon Squadron. Over her flightsuit is a black nerf-hide jacket without visible seams. It has a high collar, and smooth semi-shiny leather. A white belt sits around her waist, a datapad is clipped to it, tight to her left hip. Her well-kept but still worn black flight boots complete the uniform. Bach Harrison Bach stands a moderate 5'11". A human of a rather unimpressive build (he couldn't be any more than 175-180 pounds), he appears to be in his mid-to-late twenties. He is well-groomed, having a clean shaven face, and well-combed and trimmed brown hair. His skin is fair in complexion and his brown eyes are cold and calculating. He is currently wearing the duty uniform of a New Republic fleet officer, with it's slate gray bottom, and beige top. His pants are tucked into a pair of polished black boots. His shirt is Republic Standard Beige, with black and beige epaulets adorning either shoulder. The area where campaign patches usually go, over the left chest is currently barren of any markings or medals. A circular patch covers a portion of his left sleeve, showing his current deployment patch, with the words written on the fringe of the patch. The placard over his right chest reads , and he has <^> bars on his shoulder, identifying his rank as a Midshipman. His head is addorned with a short beige garrison cap, with the Phoenix crest of the NR front and center on it. Aramis **Aramis Tyrese: Flight Cadet, Falcon Squadron, NRSD Reprisal.** A tall, lanky young human male just reaching maturity. Aramis has very dark skin, nearly ebony with a hint of mahogany, and equally dark, intense eyes. His head is always shaved bare; not only for convenience but also because it emphasizes his features. He has high cheekbones, a strong nose, and a full mouth. While he is slender for his height and frame, he is also well-muscled from hard work out in Tatooine's heat. His hands are marked by a plethora of small scars from being nicked and scraped while repairing machinery. Aramis is wearing a dark green jumpsuit with black and grey camoflauge print, which is the standard duty uniform of a New Republic A-wing pilot. Across the upper left-chest area is a dull-gray namepatch with the name 'Aramis Tyrese' imprinted on it. On the left collar tab is a square gray patch with 1 red pip, indicating his rank to be 'Flight Cadet'. The left shoulder has a squadron patch indicating the Falcon Squadron. On the right shoulder is the familiar red Phoenix crest of the New Republic. The suit has numerous pockets to allow the pilot to store items. Slung beneath the left arm is a blaster, strapped into a rugged black shoulder holster, around his waist is a black belt with necessities stored in the pouches. The pilot's black flight boots are broken in but polished to a high gloss. Shadow You see before you a human male, just slightly less than 6 feet tall. He is athletically built and his fluid movement hints at someone who has endured intense physical training, however, his body is not huge and rippling with muscles, but more wiry. His brown hair is slightly longer than regulation military length, and he brushes it back off of his forehead with his hand. His dark brown, almost black eyes scan the area, picking up various details of his surroundings. This man is wearing the black pants and black turtleneck of a Caspian Navy Officer. Over the turtle-neck is a short, midnight blue Duty Jacket that is fastened diagonally across his chest. On his left breast is a name plate bearing the words "A. Shadow." On his right shoulder is the Caspian Naval Aerospace Arm's Vector Apex, and on his left shoulder is the five-headed dragon emblem of Hydra Squadron. On his neck are the three silver Cason Hawks that mark a Commander, and a single silver braid encircles his left shoulder. Despite his brisk walk and highly polished black spacers boots, hardly a sound is made as he crosses the area. Starfighter Hangar -- Deck 15 -- NRSD Reprisal A smaller hangar than the main bay, this chamber houses the Reprisal's complement of starfighters. Several New Republic Marines guard the important caches of craft weaponry used on the ships. Two vast blast doors provide the entrance to the hangar- one bearing the Republic phoenix, the other bearing that of the former Alliance. ___________________________________________________________________________________ Unsure of her rank, Kegren nonetheless stands and greets Ambrosia Captain Stone stands just outside a yellow safety line on the Fighter Deck. The line keeps Captain Stone and company a safe distance and out of harms ways of the approaching NRS Valiant. Peering at the shuttle with his single good eye, Captain Stone waits as the shuttle makes its final approach. Kegren'Te looks up from her idle datapadding to watch the arrival as well Mitali is a few paces behind and to the left of Captain Stone, where he's been all along. Really, he has! He's standing at a parade rest, trying not to feel vaguely out of place tidy and in an actual uniform rather than his usual work clothes and a healthy heaping of engine grease. Still, the arriving ship has just as much of his attention as it does the Captain's. It is not often that the fighter bay plays host to any sort of welcoming party. For the most part it is the realm of starfighters, their pilots, and the ever present droids and technicians that seem to always be about. Or underfoot, as the pilots would no doubt claim. And while at another time Major Aaden Baeyal might perhaps find it strange that the shuttle isn't docking in the much more spacious main hangar, at the moment he is a little preoccupied. With arms folded across his chest, he stands in quiet yet intense conversation with one of the aforementioned technicians, occasionally gesturing to a line of A-Wings nearby, positioned against one wall of the still cavernous hangar. There is a pilot whom seems to be chatting With an R2 unit is visible on the hangar bay. This couple is probably ship famous. Officer Skyler and his R2 droid R2-N1. They seem to be in a very serious conversation... No fanfare, no parade of dignitaries...just the cold, welcoming gape of space and the blaring drone of shuttle klaxtons. Despite this being only her second *official* visit to a Republic space craft, Ambassador Delgard finds that she's rather in favor of the stoic, matter-of-fact environment as opposed to the boot-kissing, whistle-blowing, ego-filling pomp of Embassy life. It was almost a vacation of sorts...almost. Shaken from her silent contemplations by a physical jarring of craft landing in addition to a high-pitched squeal from her infant daughter, Ambrosia twitches in her seat. A deep breath blows a fallen wisp of hair back towards its mother braid and she leans aside to reach for her newest arsenal - a baby bag. Her hard-nosed, risk-taking image had certainly suffered the past two years. This encounter would do nothing to redeem it, of that she is certain. "Come on, angel." She murmurs, using Tivadar's name for her to bestow over the fidgeting toddler. "It's time to be important. I hope you're ready, because momma just wants to crash. Think you can handle the introductions for me?" "Ihk-thoo." Gabi replies and beams up at her mother as a string of drool slips from her chin to her tiny tot flight jacket. "Excellent." Delgard mutters and when given permission, stands to free her daughter of the safety features. Once the child is on hip and bag in the opposite hand, she nods to her accompanying guard and the entourage that she assumes came standard with the vessel. "Lead on. I'll follow." Almost a mirror to Mitali's presence, Wrista stands on the Captain's right side and back a step or two, also in a parade rest, though she wears the duty uniform and beret of a Marine, instead of a naval technician. The diminuitive twi'lek stands in an easy sort of parade rest, loose without appearing lazy or improper, as she watches the shuttle as well. Being the XO of the NRSD Reprisal, Flag Ship of the New Republic's 2nd Fleet, gave Captain Stone the privilege of being the welcome committee for all VIPs. A task that the Captain had found very time consuming over the past several months. The Captain had been a Line Officer, a leader of troops, a combat proven commander....the growing 'dog and pony' shows had began to take its toll on the Officer. The old rugged officer with a forced grin proceeds to the base of the shuttle, "Welcome to the New Republic Star Destroyer Reprisal. I am Captain Stone, Executive Officer." Once the shuttle opens to allow its passengers to exit, Mitali goes from a parade rest to proper attention, though the Mirialan doesn't seem to consciously make the change - it's just instinct, like blinking. He hangs back when Stone proceeds to greet the new arrivals, casting a quick sidelong look towards Wrista without moving his head. Realizing her lollygagging and writing has gotten her into trouble, Kegren, who stands far at the corner of the bay well out of the path of the dignitaries, nonetheless snaps to attention in case anyone glances her way Wrista, as it happens, braces to attention at about the same time Mitali does, though that's probably to be expected. Though unlike Mitali, her eyes stay front, but it's an official sort of occasion, so she's on official behavior. Besides, as the Marine on the scene, she's sort of on a security detail, more or less. Attentiveness is important. "They like it when you make eye contact, you know," Ambrosia teases fondly to Gabi as the babe buries her face into her mother's shoulder and keeps just one eye open to peek every so often at the officer that stands behind. The echoing tromp of boots down the ramp parades onto the deck, exposing the human cargo to the stark lighting. It is sensory overload for Gabi, who shrieks briefly her way into a giant hiccup that then induces a fussing squirm. Splendid. Shifting the unhappy child to her left hip effortlessly, the Ambassador keeps her eyes squared ahead, namely over the Captain. Once her right hand is free, she offers it for a shake, lips spreading with ease into an inviting grin. "My thanks, Captain Stone, for permitting my presence. I'm aware that these formalities can be more inconvenient than not, so I won't keep you long." Glancing briefly over the man's shoulder to those that stand behind, she offers nods, then returns her full attention to the Captain. "This is my daughter, Gabi. I am pleased to know that there is a childcare facility on board, as her father is hardly in a position to tend her while I'm away. Say hello, Angel." She prompts and twists halfway to force the girl to at least look at the Captain. Gabi sucks at a fist, gaping at the assortment of strangers and massive ships with equal awe. Kegren melts a little at the image of the cute human child. With a few glances finally directed towards the arriving shuttle and the fact that the ship's Executive Officer has arrived to greet it finally alerting him to the fact that the dying whine of the repulsor lifts is not just another fighter setting down from a patrol, Aaden finally tugs his attention away from the discussion he is having with the technician in charge of Falcon Squadron's maintenance schedule, glancing over his shoulder. One brow arching, he watches the quiet greeting, the words easily lost beneath all the other noise that constantly fills the hangar, though his interest dims when he watches one of his pilots snap to attention. Lips twitching in amusement the Major shakes his head one last time at the tech and instead begins to wander over towards Kegren'Te. "Ya know," he begins conversationally as he nears, "Yer gonna pull a muscle or something if you keep snappin' ta attention every time a more senior officer walks into a room with ya. And this hangar," he adds, motioning about with one hand, "is a pretty big room," he adds lightly. Blushing a little, Kegren turns to the Major. "It's better to be safe than sorry. Not everyone is as casual as you. I'd rather get off stares for being too formal than get bumped down to toilet duty for not being formal enough." The Captain looks briefly towards the child, then returns his focus to Ambassador Delgard. A short understanding nod is given to the woman, "Yes Ambassador, we have already made proper arrangements for your daughter while you are on board." Captain Stone looks over his shoulder towards Officer Mitali, but speeks to Wrista as well "Ensure that the Ambassador's belongings and entourage are taken care of." The Captain returns his attention to Ambrosia, "The CDU Task Force's arrival has been delayed once again. When they arrive, I will be sure to let you know. Till then, please make yourself at home abourd the Reprisal." Harrison Bach steps lightly through the hallways of the ship, his eyes and his attention focused on the datapad in his hands. Studying the map and layout of the vessel, the new transfer pauses upon entering the Fighter Bay. Blinking his eyes once, his attention on the datapad was redirected on the going-ons of the area. Figures, on his first day on the ship there had to have been something important that happened. A part of him hoped that there wasn't some memo that demanded his presence. For now, he is content with watching the happenings from afar. "Yessir." Once Stone's attention has returned to the Ambassador, Mitali sneaks in a quick, friendly waggling of fingers at the baby. Sue him, babies are cute, and there's one /right there/ - and this doesn't seem to be /that/ formal an occasion now that it's gotten underway. He casts a quick look to Wrista before returning his attention to the Captain, remaining at attention for the moment. He can worry about seeing to the Ambassador's things and people after the greetings and such are all taken care of. The click of a boot heel sounds quietly as Wrista drops her salute at the order, with a quiet "Sir" to acknowledge it. The twi'lek give a polite half-nod, half bowing of her head to the Ambassador with an accompanying "Ma'am" and a sunny smile to the child, before she steps away to see what luggage and entourage is involved. Might need a repulsorlift cart, might not. Having dealt with his share of young officers -- and well remembering what he was like when he got his first commission onboard a New Republic capital ship -- Aaden's lips only twitch once more in response and he dips his head to his squadron-mate in acknowledgement. "Mah brother always told me that the Rebellion was fairly informal 'bout worryin' over rank and preference. More important things, ya know. Ah don't think you'll find things have changed that much," he says with a slightest smile. "Trust me, ain't no officer onboard no matter how strict who'll have you in the brig for not comin' ta attention when they enter the hangar. If they address you, sure, best ta play it safe. Or if you're specifically waiting on them. Otherwise ya should be safe. And if ah'm wrong, just point them my way and ah'll take the flak for it," he promises. Kegren, who has never heard the Major mention this before, debates asking the Major about his brother. Awkward questions about her own family might crop up. But she is damnably tired of hiding from EVERYONE. "Brother, Sir?" Ambrosia nods, only slightly distracted as that wisp of hair falls victim to the grimy clutches of a tiny hand. "That sounds wonderful, actually. I don't believe words alone can express how utterly ecstatic I am to witness our treaty be put to good use in fashions that haven't involved, at least not yet, a first-class hind-chewing by the CDU President. I'll not list the times I've suffered an earful and then some for the alleged mistakes of our military." Arching a brow pointedly with that final remark, she softens her smile into a warmer, more genuine expression to castaway any implications her last statement may have held. "I suppose I'll make sure that Gabi settles in and then take a relaxing stroll about for a bit. What channel would you have me switch my 'link to for notification?" Gabi's eyes flick between Mitali and Wrista with engaging wonderment, her focus lingering over the twitching of headtails. The rest of the Ambassador's entourage is very small. An NR marine, still bearing his Embassy pins, a protocol droid that has a rather home-made appearance, and a smaller, more shy Sarian...secretary? It's uncertain what purpose she serves, but she does hug a file case to her chest. The luggage is equally sparse. Perhaps this political dignitary is not as high maintenance as her contemporaries. Harrison continues to keep his eyes on the hub-bub, the back of his mind churning with questions. Should he approach or keep back? At this point he almost was telling himself to play things safe and just hover back, or just head back to another room and get familiar with that part of the ship. With the shape his mind is in currently, partial confusion and all, he would probably end up talking in Huttese or Mandalorian and making a complete fool of himself. The Captain nods understandingly to Ambrosia, "There will be no galactic incidents under my watch Ambassador. If you have no further questions for me, Officer Mitali and Officer Ipex will show you to your quarters, your temporary office, and any other facilities that you will need. They will also provide you with all comlink roster of all important crew members and facilities." Now that, that is a cue if ever he's heard one. At hearing his name, Mitali flashes a smile and inclines his head respectfully towards Ambrosia. "Up to and including how best to sweet-talk the droids in the lounge to fix your orders quickly so as not to keep yourself or your little one waiting," he confirms, and after a brief pause, adds a "...ma'am." onto the end. Wrista might just have given a few not-so-absent twitches when she noticed the young one's focus stay on her lekku. Or it may have been coincidence. Since Mitali's stepped forward to the ambassador, she busies herself with the entourage, greeting the Marine with a grin of commonality, the droid with the sort of straightforwardness they usually require, and the shy Sarian with a friendly, warm sort of greeting that may or may not put her to some ease. She takes the time to make sure all the baggage there is or isn't is settled out for being moved, and turns to flash a little all-set thumb at Mitali once she's done. A quiet chuckle comes from Aaden at the question and he gives a small shrug of his shoulders. "Nuthin' exciting or nuthin'. But yeah, mah older brother was with the Rebellion. He stuck around with the New Republic too, for a time. He flew fighters too, before transferring over ta the Support Corps. Strangely enough he even got himself commissioned up ta Major too. It kinda runs in the family it seems," he replies with a grin. "Ah was still in school back then, and even after ah graduated ah stuck around ta serve with the local defense forces. Only transferred my commission over to the New Republic when he came home. We kinda switched places, it seems," he chuckles. And while that might be a naturally segue into questioning the younger officer about her own family, Kegren'Te is fortunately spared that as the XO and the arriving dignitary apparently get ready to head out, distracting the pilot momentarily. Kegren’Te gestures at the party with her chin. "Who is she Sir?" "No more questions, Captain. I'll let you be on your way. Officers," Ambrosia addresses Mitali and Wrista with a complacent nod. "I suppose I'll place myself in your care, then." Glancing behind to C-4 at the mentioning of droids, she chuckles. "You'll have some friends to keep you company, C4." "Friends, Ambassador, are few and far between. You did say so yourself." Replies the droid oh so eloquently, swiveling its head from the surroundings scan to zoom in on her mistress' face. Clearing her throat softly, Ambrosia lowers her eyes to her feet briefly, lips spread into a thin, patient line. Who needed children when one had a droid to embarrass them? "Yes, yes I did say that. Years ago, when our Embassy was suffering neglect, my supervisor vanished, grounds attacked, and myself hospitalized. It's what we call being in a foul mood." "Oh yes..." Says the droid, bowing awkwardly to Wrista as she walks past. "I'd nearly forgotten that incident." Gabi's tired fussing turns into a gaze of rapture and a few flailing claps as the droid moves about. Captain Stone simply nods once at the Ambassador. His gaze slews over all those present make sure that everything is being taken care of. "Please contact me once you are comfortable Ambassador, I will send an Intelligence Officer to spin you up on Operation Dragon Slayer." With that said, Captain Stone turns around and begins walking away from the group. He knew the Ambassador was now in good hands. After giving the departing Stone a salute as he passes, Mitali turns back towards the ambassador and her entourage. "Let's see if we can't get you somewhere a little more comfortable than a hangar bay," he says wryly, smiling lopsidedly and gesturing behind himself towards the main hangar and turbolift beyond it. "Can I carry anything for you, ma'am, or do you have it all okay?" Wrista tries not to grin too much at the commentary between droid and owner, and once she's done getting the entourage settled, comes up next to Mitali. "I believe we have comfortable quarters in the VIP section of the crew deck all ready for you, Ma'am," she adds in the Ambassador's direction. Glancing once more towards the dignitary and her accompanying officers, Falcon's CO gives a small shrug of his shoulders before turning back to the other pilot. "Ah couldn't tell ya, ah'm afraid. We've had so many VIPs arrivin' lately ah wouldn't know one from the other if they came up behind me and hit me over the head," he confesses with a small grin. "Well... mebbe then, but ah'm afraid you're out of luck with this one. Ah'm sure if it's important ta us the higher-ups will see that the information works it's way on down. Otherwise ya can ask around. Someone will know ah'm sure," Aaden suggests. Kegren shrugs back. "Curiosity killed the cat, I think I'm just going back to my programming, unless you needed something Major?" The question is waved off casually and Aaden shakes his head in quick denial. "Nah, ah'm just havin' a chat with the techies. Nuthin' you need ta concern yourself with though. Don't stay up too late fiddlin' with those things. You got patrol at oh-nine-hundred tomorrow," he points out, unable to help but flick off an irreverent salute Kegren'te's way before turning to head back over to his fighters. Watching the Captain go for a moment, Ambrosia files away some mental notes, then blinks her attention back to Mitali. "Oh! Um." Looking behind to see that Wrista has returned from her introductions, she gently unravels her hair from Gabi's distracted fist. "I suppose those few bags are the only things to be carried. I'll just follow you two to my quarters and put this little traveler to bed." Planting a kiss on the babe's forehead after the girl scrunches her nose into her mother's neck again, Ambrosia looks more directly to Wrista. "I *do* remember your name, Officer Ipex. The letter, correct?" Craning her neck around, she gesturing with her head for her few followers to get ready to move. Kegren'Te notices Aramis requisitioning her fighter. She bounds up and asks, "Heading out?" "That sounds like a very good plan," Mitali agrees, smiling cheerfully at Ambrosia and the baby both before he begins to walk backwards towards the main hangar, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to make sure he isn't about to trip over anything or anyone. He's a very good backwards-walker. Yes. It lets him make sure everyone's keeping up alright. Wrista bobs her head in a friendly affirmative. "Yes'm. It was Cadet Ipex at the time, though it has since elevated a little." It seems her cheery, friendly demeanor is normal, once she's not mired in formality. "Actually, Mitali and I were both involved in that incident. Much of the information about the freighter's flight plan and cargo that I forwarded came through his technical team that was examining the wreck after the fact." She pauses, adds, "I suspect that's why we’re here on welcoming duty tonight." "I believe you're correct in that assumption," Ambrosia smiles, glancing behind as well to ensure that her team is keeping step. They are, for the most part, though C4 lags every now and again as they cross through the hangar to oggle at some machinery here and there. "Let whoever is tasked with debriefing me on the situation to-date know that they are free to approach me at anytime once we've dropped our things. Serina here," Gesturing back to the Sarian, "will accompany me, if permissible." Deck Officer -- (Starfighter Hangar) says, "Ok, Johmac, I'll check your ship in." Main Hangar -- Deck 15 -- NRSD Reprisal This vast chamber houses the numerous spacecraft that visit the Reprisal. Shuttles, transports, and other starfighter-sized craft can be seen refueling, docking, or preparing for takeoff. An enormous force field serves as the entrance to the hangar itself, sealing the ship off from the vacuum of space. Above the force field is the seal of the New Republic, beneath which is painted the red phoenix of the former Alliance to Restore the Republic. ___________________________________________________________________________________ "I don't think that would be a problem, though I am but a humble tech monkey," Mitali admits, spreading his hands as he turns to walk sideways rather than backwards through the main hangar. "Security should be able to give you a yea or nay on that. Captain Stone definitely could." He pokes the call button on the lift and bounces a bit on his toes. The twi'lek marine nods. "I think an Intel officer has been tasked with that. It isn't really my field-- I'm a Scout for the Marines, so I don't have quite the big picture the Intel folks do. I would imagine if there is a problem with Serena's presence, the officer in question will find some diplomatic manner in which to say so. I'll make sure they know you're available." She bounces on her heels slightly while they wait for the lift. "My thanks." Ambrosia nods quietly and glances downward to check on Gabi's status. The child has grown very still, just twitching every now and again, but her eyes remain open with a bleary sheen. The fist has fallen from her mouth, smattering the shoulder of her mother's pricey tunic with an imprint of goo. No matter. Closing her eyes, Delgard waits in patient silence for the lift to arrive. C4, on the other hand, knows no such silence. "I must say, Ambassador, these shuttles are far more advanced than the Starshine. How old did you say that vessel was?" "I didn't." Ambrosia murmurs, gaze kept firmly ahead while she intakes a slow, calming breath. "The Starshine was given to me for use by Chief Organa-Solo a long time ago. I've not the right to be selective. So be silent for our sakes. Please." The turbolift open to reveal Captain Stone. It had not been that long since he had lost scene the Ambassador, but he was lucky to have caught her in the hangar bay still. The Captain begins to move in her direction to, "Ambassador, the CCS Forbearant has just arrived and her Commander will be aboard shortly if you are ready to meet with him." It's fairly obvious that Mitali is trying to be good and not respond to the droid, because he gets the distinct impression that such a thing would result in a headache for the Ambassador. He brightens when the lift arrives, but blinks a bit when Stone comes out of it, looking vaguely amused and stepping aside to let him out. Wrista clasps her hands loosely behind her back, eyeing the droid sidelong with some amusement. "Shiny knobs and fresh paint don't make a ship worth using," she muses absently, but leaves it at that, particularly when Stone shows up with the lift. "Oh..." Ambrosia purses her lips, nodding to Stone's news. "If the Commander would be willing to spare me a few minutes to leave our things in the quarters and lay Gabi to sleep, I'd be quite ready then to meet him. In this state, however, I'm not sure much could be accomplished efficiently." Wearing an apologetic smile, she shrugs the free shoulder and lays a hand over Gabi's head to thread her fingers through the little curls with rhythmic stroke. The Captain nods once, "This will be a short meet and greet Ambassador, we will have a more formal welcome within the next day or two." The sounds of the two ships docking emits throughout the bay. A few technicians work away at the door ensuring a proper seal is made before opening the door. Captain Stone then motions towards the lock, "If you are ready Ambassador, otherwise I will meet with Commander Shadow." Aboard Forbearant, Shadow looks over the small contingent of officers who will be trekking over to the Reprisal with him. As the last of his little group rolls up, a small yellow-and-green R3 unit, the Corellian CDU Commander nods and turns to head down the tube as the 'all-clear' sounds from the Forbearant's seal. He draws up to the closed door at the Reprisals end, and waits patiently. The only sound in the tube is a slight clicking sound that seems to be emanating from the R3 unit. "Respectfully, sir, I think there's a baby that needs to be tucked in before pleasantries are dealt with," Mitali hazards, squaring his shoulders so as to avoid looking /too/ timid at speaking so to the Captain. He's been charged with seeing that the Ambassador is taken care of, though, and he intends to do just that. Wrista nods agreement with Mitali. "We can see her up and take care of settling in quickly, sir, but it should probably be done first. Should only take a few minutes to settle the basics and return." Following the Captain's gesture with her eyes, Ambrosia sighs softly and lifts a hand to dismiss Mitali and Wrista's concern. "So long as it's a very short pleasantry. If he is to come through this way, I might as well meet the man now rather than stay just a few steps ahead in evasion." She nods her agreement to Stone and turns to carefully deposit said baby in the Sarian's arms after C4 takes the file case. "Hold her for one moment if you will?" Serina smiles obligingly and cradles Gabi with caution. Captain Stone looks at the pair of junior officers with his one good eye. A stern looks is given to the pair, a looks that says 'we will talk about this later'. With that the Captain turns and heads for the Airlock and the awaiting Commander Shadow. Once at Commander Shadow, Captain Stone gives the man a short nod, "Welcome to the NRSD Reprisal Commander. I am Captain Stone, XO of this ship." Before crossing the docking tube's edge onto the deck of the Reprisal, Commander Adam Shadow stops and draws himself to a polite 'parade rest,' hands clasped behind his back. Behind him the small entourage of CDU Navy and Marine officers also respectfully stand, and the astromech quiets it's incessant clicking for a moment. Locking eyes with the Stone, the Corellian nods once. "Permission to come aboard, Captain?" Somehow, Mitali doesn't shrink under Stone's look. Don't ask him how, because he honestly has no idea. He nods politely to the Ambassador and steps back to wait near the turbolift at a parade rest, settling in to watch the proceedings. Wrista may not be precisely pleased about the look, but she'll weather it just fine, settling in with Mitali to await the meeting getting done. Following Stone closely, step-for-step, Ambassador Delgard comes to a standstill with no less of a formal stance, her posture righted and chin lifted. Aside from the spittle stain on her left shoulder, her wardrobe is crisp, clean, and would have been ready to make one hell of an impression. Not wanting to interrupt the Commander and Captain until directed to do so, she examines the Commander's face for any hopes of familiarity. There's none. The Captain motions with his right hand for Commander Shadow and crew to step on board the New Republic Star Destroyer. "Please, come on board Commander." Stepping to the side to not block the view of any of those here, Captain Stone performs introductions, "This is Ambassador Ambrosia Delgard, delegate to the CDU, Caspar City. Followed by 2nd Combat Officer Inxy (Wrista) of the Marines and 2nd Deck Officer Mitali of Fleet Operations." Nodding at the introduced personages, Shadow smiles at them all. "I'm pleased to be here working with you all." When Ambassador Ambrosia is introduced, he nods to her specifically. "Ambassador. I'm honored to meet you." When the introductions are completed, the Commander smiles self-depreciatingly. "Unfortunately, my senior officers are all on duty right now. At our 'official' meeting, I'll be happy to introduce them to you." "That they are otherwise occupied is fortunate for me, then." Ambrosia smiles, extending a hand. "I'm glad to be a part of this joined investigation, Commander. Although I've not yet been fully debriefed, I am aware of the situation at hand. On behalf of the New Republic, I'd like to thank you and yours profusely for tending to this matter promptly." Mitali presses the turbolift button. The turbolift arrives and its doors open. Mitali leaves the level into the turbolift. Wrista leaves the level into the turbolift. The doors to the turbolift close, as it moves to another level. Shaking the woman's hand, Shadow nods. "It's my pleasure, as well as the CDU's. The official debrief will shed a lot of light on all of this, I'm sure. In the meantime, I hope that if you need me for anything, you call on me. I'm confident that this operation will be beneficial to both sides, and look forward to working with the New Republic." He smiles crookedly. The Ambassador closes her eyes for a moment, formality taking a dip to permit an almost blissful smile cross her features. She shakes her head, opening her eyes. "You cannot possibly know how long I have been waiting to hear those words. Fruits are far more desired than a spoiled crop." Offering the Commander a stiff bow, she adds "And likewise, if you've questions for me, I'll be pageable from my suite. If you'll excuse me for the time being, however, it's high time to put the youngest of our representatives to bed." Chuckling, Shadow nods. "By all means, Ambassador. I'll see you at the formal 'ceremony,' where we can all be uncomfortable for a while before getting down to business. Until then." Sketching a bow of his own, he turns and gestures his group back up the docking tube towards their ship. Last to leave is the little R3, which idles around looking at the various ships across the deck until the Commander shouts, "Clicker, move it!", at which point the droid beeps and zips up the tube. Category:RP Logs